Year Of The Tiger

by Jack Higgins

  After a while, Chavasse sat up and handed him the cup. “I’d like to know what’s going on behind that smile,” he said. “You haven’t brought me out here for the good of my health, that’s obvious.”

  “For the good of your soul, Paul,” Colonel Li said. “For the good of your immortal soul.”

  “Communist version, of course.”

  Li smiled faintly and inserted a cigarette into his jade holder. “You know, I’ve grown very fond of you during the past three weeks, Paul. I’m really quite determined to bring you over to our side. Such good material going to waste.”

  “I’ll see you in hell first,” Chavasse told him.

  “I don’t think so.” Li shook his head. “You seem to forget that I have an irritating habit of always getting what I want in the end.”

  “I hadn’t noticed.”

  “Oh, but I do. For example, when you first came to me, you refused to tell me who you really were. I found out for myself quite quickly from intelligence records in Peking. Next, I wanted to know what you were doing here.”

  “You’ve been trying to find that out for three weeks,” Chavasse said, “and how far have you got?”

  Li chuckled. “But I’ve known from the beginning. Katya told me all about it that first night. You were hoping to get Doctor Hoffner out of Tibet.”

  Chavasse moistened dry lips. “Katya told you?” he said dully.

  “But of course. It’s really very simple. It was quite obvious to me that you had a reason for being at Hoffner’s house posing as Kurbsky. I invited the good doctor to tell me all he knew. Being the humanitarian he is, he of course declined. I pointed out that his attitude might have an adverse effect on our future relations. Katya stepped in at once and told me the whole story to save him any possible unpleasantness.”

  “So now you know,” Chavasse said. “I’m glad she had the sense to tell you. What have you done with them?”

  “They’re both still at Hoffner’s house. I’m afraid I’ll have to send them to Lhasa eventually and from there to Peking, but only when this affair is cleared up.”

  “But what else is there to know?” Chavasse asked.

  “Many things.” Colonel Li shrugged. “How you entered Tibet. Who helped you when you got here, what happened to Kurbsky and his escort.”

  “You’ve been asking me those questions for three weeks,” Chavasse told him, “and where has it got you? Don’t you ever give up?”

  “No, Paul, I do not.” Li’s voice was suddenly ice-cold. “Because in the first place, I’m not entirely a fool. There’s something wrong with this affair, something not quite right about it. I want to know what it is.”

  Chavasse laughed in his face. “You might as well shoot me and get it over with.”

  “Oh, no, Paul. I won’t do that. Before I’m finished with you, you’re going to tell me what I want to know – the truth. The whole truth, and you’ll tell me because you want to. Afterwards, you’ll go to Peking, where I’ve no doubt the Central Committee will find you a most valuable ally.”

  “Kill me,” Chavasse told him. “You’ll save us both a lot of grief.”

  Colonel Li shook his head. “I’m going to help you, Paul. I’m going to save you in spite of yourself.”

  He stood up quickly and walked away and, a moment later, mounted his horse at the head of the column. Chavasse waited for his guard and after a while, the man came and looped the end of the rope over the pommel of his saddle again and the column moved off down the slope into the valley.

  As they neared the village, dogs ran to meet them, their barking hollow on the damp air. They darted in and out amongst the horses and the soldiers cursed and kicked out at them.

  A few ragged and undernourished children hovered on the perimeter of things, keeping pace with the column as it entered the village.

  Chavasse decided that he had seldom seen a more miserable sight in his life than the mud streets and wretched hovels grouped round the large square. He trailed along at the rear of the column, dogs yapping at his heels as the children ran beside him shouting excitedly.

  In the centre of the square there was a large stone platform, and here the headman waited with a few elders grouped around him. Colonel Li reined in his horse beside them and waited while his men galloped through the wretched streets, turning the inhabitants out into the rain, herding them into the square.

  Within ten minutes their task was done and a crowd of perhaps a hundred and fifty people were gathered in the square. Li made a sign and a soldier pushed Chavasse forward and up onto the stone.

  He looked out into the rain over the sea of sullen, apathetic faces, at the cavalrymen lined up at the rear, and wondered what was supposed to happen now.

  He soon found out. Colonel Li raised a hand for silence. “People of Sela!” he shouted. “Many times in the past I have told you of the foreign devils who are our enemies. Those of the Western world who would do us harm. Today I bring you such a one that you might look upon him for yourselves.”

  There was a slight stirring in the crowd, but otherwise not a flicker of interest, and he continued, “I could tell you many bad things about this man. I could say that he has murdered your own countrymen, that he intends you all great harm, but he has been guilty of one single crime more diabolical than all the rest put together.”

  There was suddenly complete silence as everyone waited and Li said slowly, “This man is one of those who helped kidnap the Dalai Lama – who snatched the living God away by force to India, where he is now held captive against his will.”

  There was a sudden cry from someone at the back, and then another. In a moment, the whole crowd was surging forward. A stone curved through the air. Chavasse moved to avoid it and another caught him above his right eye, drawing blood.

  Filth and ordure of every description snatched up from the mud of the square was thrown at him, and within minutes he was plastered from head to foot.

  Colonel Li had wheeled his horse away as they began, but now he called from the edge of the crowd, “What punishment is fit for such a monster?”

  For a moment, the crowed paused, and then someone screamed, “Kill him! Kill him!”

  Chavasse kicked out in a panic as a hand reached for his feet and fingers grabbed the edge of his tattered robe. Someone caught hold of the rope which was still fastened to his wrists and pulled on it, jerking him headfirst into the crowd.

  He was on his face in the mud surrounded by a forest of legs, and fear rose into his throat, choking him, and he screamed and kicked out frantically and then the crowd scattered as the cavalrymen thundered into them.

  They cleared a circle and he scrambled to his feet and faced them. The people looked at him silently, hate in their eyes, and Colonel Li urged his horse forward and said, “No, death would be the easy way out, comrades. We must help him to change. To become like us. To think like us. Is this not so?”

  There was a sullen murmur from the crowd and, as Li inclined his head, the cavalrymen herded them away.

  Li smiled down at Chavasse. “You see, Paul, without me they would have killed you. I really am your friend after all.”

  Chavasse, glaring up at him with hate in his heart, could think of nothing to say.

  13

  Lying in the darkness, suspended in a sort of limbo, Chavasse was dragged back into the present when the bell started to jangle somewhere inside his head and the cell was illuminated by intermittent flashes of scarlet.

  The skin on his face seemed to tighten, and it seemed as if the raw ends of his nerves were being given a series of electric shocks.

  He lay there staring up at the ceiling, the bare springs of the iron cot digging painfully into his back, and waited for them to come for him.

  He could hear boots on the flagstones of the corridor and then the key grated in the lock. The bolt was thrown back and a shaft of hard white light sliced through the darkness.

  Slowly, very slowly, he swung his legs to the floor and got to his feet. There
was no one but the little sergeant, and he stood back and motioned Chavasse outside with a quick jerk of his head.

  Chavasse moved along the corridor through a curtain of grey shimmering cobwebs, dragging his feet slightly. He’d had nothing to eat for three days and, as he put each foot down upon the flagstones, he seemed to be moving in slow motion.

  He was filled with a great calm and he turned and smiled at the sergeant as they reached the end of the corridor and started up the stairs. The sergeant looked at him strangely, and there was something that was almost fear in his eyes.

  But why should he be afraid of me, Chavasse asked himself? As he paused outside the familiar door and waited for the sergeant to open it for him, he smiled again.

  In the outer office, the smart young woman orderly sat at a desk writing busily. She looked up and nodded and the sergeant opened the inner door and stood back for Chavasse to go in first. Captain Tsen was sitting behind Colonel Li’s desk, and he kept his head down as he studied a typewritten report, completely ignoring Chavasse and the sergeant.

  Chavasse didn’t mind in the least. Through the cobwebs, a gaunt and bearded stranger looked out at him from the mirror on the wall. He smiled and the stranger smiled back and behind the stranger was the sergeant standing by the door and there was that look of fear in his eyes again.

  But why should he be afraid? The stranger in the mirror frowned as if he too puzzled over the problem and then a great light flamed through the cobwebs, clearing them instantly. There was nothing more they could do to him. That was the only answer. He had won.

  Captain Tsen looked up, his face completely devoid of expression. He opened his mouth and his voice sounded far away, as if it came from the other end of a tunnel.

  Chavasse smiled politely and Tsen picked up a typewritten document and started to read aloud, and now Chavasse heard every word loud and clear.

  “Paul Chavasse, you have been tried by a special court of the Central Committee of intelligence in Peking and found guilty of grave crimes against the People’s Republic.”

  There didn’t seem much he could say. There was, of course, the small and obvious point that he had not been present at his trial, but such minor items had little significance in the general scheme of things.

  He waited and Tsen carried on:

  “It is the sentence of this court that the prisoner be shot to death as soon as may be convenient.”

  It was as if a great floodgate had been released, and joy surged through him in a wave of emotion that brought tears to his eyes.

  “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you very much.”

  Tsen frowned up at him. “You are to be executed. You understand?”

  “Perfectly!” Chavasse assured him.

  Tsen shrugged. “Very well. Take off your clothes.”

  Slowly, with fumbling fingers, he started to strip, and the stranger in the mirror nodded encouragingly and followed suit. As Chavasse dropped his filthy shirt upon the floor, Tsen said to the sergeant, “Examine his clothing. There must be no question of his evading the sentence by committing suicide.”

  When Chavasse had finished, he stood in front of the desk, naked as the day he was born, and stared down in wonder at the sergeant, who was kneeling on the floor, examining every article of clothing thoroughly.

  Tsen pressed a buzzer on the desk and returned to his report. After a moment, the woman orderly came in. She stood beside the desk, completely ignoring Chavasse, while Tsen spoke to her. She took the papers he gave her, crossed to a large green cabinet and started to file them.

  Chavasse stood patiently waiting for the sergeant to finish, and then behind him the door opened and he saw Colonel Li framed in the mirror.

  A look of astonishment appeared on Li’s face, then was quickly replaced by what seemed to Chavasse to be genuine anger. He crossed the room in two quick strides and hauled Tsen from his seat.

  “You stupid swine!” he snarled. “Hasn’t he suffered enough? Must he be completely humiliated?”

  “But I was simply seeing that he had the customary search before execution, Colonel,” Tsen explained. “Central Committee orders are quite explicit and the procedure to be followed is most clearly laid down.”

  “Get out of my sight!” Colonel Li shouted. “And take that damned woman with you!”

  Captain Tsen and the orderly hurriedly withdrew and the sergeant started to help Chavasse into his clothes.

  “I’m sorry about that, Paul,” Li said. “Truly sorry, believe me.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Chavasse told him. “Nothing matters any longer.”

  “So Captain Tsen’s told you?”

  Chavasse nodded. “I’ve won after all, haven’t I?”

  There was genuine sorrow on Li’s face. “I’d have given anything to see this affair turn out differently, Paul, you know that. But it’s no longer my responsibility. You’ve been sentenced to death by the Central Committee, and there’s an end to it.”

  “It’s strange,” Chavasse said, “but I feel quite pleased about it. I’m even glad my automatic jammed when it did and I didn’t put a bullet in your head. It gives you time to find out for yourself that you’re wrong. That all of you are wrong.”

  Li groaned, got to his feet and crossed to the fire. For a while he stared down into the flames, and then he turned. “If only they’d given me a little more time. Just a few more days. You were close, Paul. Closer than you think.”

  Chavasse shook his head and said tranquilly, “Oil and water don’t mix, Colonel. That’s basic chemistry. We’re a million miles apart, now and always.”

  Colonel Li slammed one balled fist into his palm. “But we are right, Paul. Our progress is as inexorable as a law of nature. We will win and you will lose.”

  “You people never take human beings into account,” Chavasse told him, “and they’re the most variable factor in the universe. Nothing’s certain in this life, not for me or you or anybody.”

  Colonel Li shrugged. “I can see I’m wasting my time talking to you.” He pulled back a shoulder, brought his heels together and held out his hand. “Goodbye, Paul.”

  Chavasse took the hand mechanically because it didn’t seem to matter anymore and then he turned and the sergeant opened the door for him and they went out.

  When they reached his cell he halted, but the sergeant pushed him forward and stopped him outside another one at the very end of the corridor. He unlocked the door and pushed Chavasse inside.

  It was completely dark and he stood there, arms outstretched in front of him as he edged forward, and then his boot rang against the end of an iron cot and, at that moment, a hard white light was switched on.

  The man who lay on the cot was swathed in bloody rags and his hands were crossed on his breast as if he were dead. His eyes were closed and no sound issued from his swollen lips. The face was like wax, the skin so translucent that one would have sworn the bone gleamed through, and yet there was the mark of incredible suffering there.

  Chavasse slumped down on the edge of the bed, shaking the man’s head from side to side. “Joro!” he said dully. “Joro!” and he gently touched the cold face with the tips of his fingers.

  Slowly, incredibly, the eyes opened to stare blankly at him, and then there was a faint stirring of life there. The Tibetan opened his mouth to speak, but no sound would come out and after a while, the head fell back again and the eyes closed.

  Nothing seemed real anymore, everything seemed part of some unbelievable nightmare. He sat there beside the Tibetan, staring blankly at the wall, until footsteps approached and the door opened.

  There were five of them including the sergeant. Two of them took Joro between them and went first, Chavasse bringing up the rear with the others.

  When they opened the door at the end of the corridor, a drift of rain blew in on the wind. Outside in the courtyard, it was cold and miserable, the sky black with threatening clouds, everything tinged with early morning.

  Captain Tsen was waiting with a
file of six riflemen in the centre of the yard and he stayedthere, waiting for the sergeant to handle his end of the business as quickly as possible.

  Two wooden posts, about ten feet apart, had been hammered into the ground a yard away from the opposite wall, and Chavasse waited while they roped the unconscious Joro into place.

  When they seized him in turn and tied him expertly, he was conscious of no fear. He didn’t even feel the bite of the ropes as they were pulled tightly about his arms.

  At last they were finished and the soldiers moved away and took up position on one side, the sergeant standing in front of them. Then everybody waited.

  Soon Colonel Li appeared at the top of the steps in the main entrance. He was wearing his dress cap and white gloves, everything very formal and correct, and Captain Tsen turned and saluted.

  Li came down the steps slowly and crossed the courtyard. He stood a few feet away, hands behind his back, and looked straight at Chavasse, and then he brought his heels together in a quick gesture, saluted and turned away.

  Tsen barked a quick order and the six riflemen moved forward quickly and raised their weapons. Chavasse seemed to see everything through the wrong end of a telescope and to hear all sounds as if they were muted and far off. He saw Tsen’s mouth open, the arm start to fall, and he closed his eyes.

  The volley echoed flatly across the town through the heavy rain and he waited for death, but it did not come.

  Somewhere through the quiet that surrounded him he was aware of footsteps approaching him, and he opened his eyes. Joro hung forward, his dead, useless body straining against the ropes that held it to the post, and Colonel Li stood a few feet away, examining it dispassionately.

  As Chavasse stared uncomprehendingly at Li and Joro, his frozen mind refusing to accept what had happened, Tsen barked an order and the sergeant and four men doubled forward. As they untied Chavasse, he looked across at what was left of Joro, at the blood dripping from the shattered face to the wet cobbles.